The Wreck Of The Day
by Color Me Tardis
Summary: In all the time I've known you; you have never once been completely sober. - Effie/Haymitch one shot.


**Title:** The Wreck Of The Day  
><strong>Prompt:<strong> _When they're on the train and Effie goes to see Haymitch in his room._  
><strong>AN:** This didn't come out exactly how I planned. I think a part of me wanted to have some serious smut, but it just didn't happen. I still hope you guys enjoy! Also, I'm not sure this is going to stay a one shot because I could write so much more on this. This is the first of many prompts from the lovely land of Tumblr.  
><strong>Prompt by:<strong> Snakehead

After checking several cars, Effie retreated back the way she came in hopes of finding Haymitch in his room. Often times she tried her best to keep him away from alcohol, although they both knew that she didn't have the time to chase him around. If he was determined to drink, then he would find a way to do so while her back was turned. She knew she had absolutely no say in the matter, but for the sake of the tributes, she would try her darn hardest to sober him up.

Entering his room, she was surprised to find it completely empty. A glass was on the floor near his nightstand table, and several empty bottles were thrown partially under the bed. Tidying up after Haymitch wasn't part of her contract either, but she always felt the need to help him out. She still had no idea why she put so much effort into their relationship, or lack thereof. There was some part of her, some deep motherly instinct that always made her sympathize with the drunken mess. It had nothing to do with the ache she always felt in the pit of her stomach whenever he was around. That was a lie she would forever stick to.

As she bent down to wrap her fingers around the necks of two forgotten bottles, she heard a shuffle of feet behind her. A thick arm was around her waist before she had time to fully stand up, and the bottle fell from her hands as she struggled. Whoever was holding her grunted as her heel dug into their foot, and she was promptly slammed against the nearest wall.

"Who…" It was Haymitch, trying to work out who she was, and if she was any threat to him. He must have downed a lot more alcohol than she thought, judging by the wild look in his eyes and the off balance stagger. The bottle in his left hand came up to his lips, and he grunted as he realized there was no more liquid inside.

"Haymitch, it's me. Effie." She wondered momentarily where he had been hiding as he eyed her carefully before smashing the bottle against the wall beside her head. She screamed in response and ducked as shards of glass passed her face and fell to the floor. A heavy smell of alcohol invaded her nostrils as he stepped close to her, as though trying to intimidate her. It was clear that he still had no idea who she was, and she feared that he may hurt her. Who was he seeing in this deluded moment? But at the sight of her tears – which she hadn't realized were falling – Haymitch staggered backwards and landed heavily on the edge of his bed.

"Effie, I…" He wasn't sure what to say. It wasn't like him to apologize. "You shouldn't have come here."

"You can't keep doing this to yourself. Those kids need you." She responded, trying to avoid the anger she felt rising in her chest. It wasn't smart to pick a fight with a delusional drunk.

"Those kids are screwed." He growled back, running his hands across his face. "We both know that I can't help them."

"You can't keep drinking yourself silly, Haymitch." She hated to see him waste away every year. It always ate away at her insides when she thought about him up all night, chugging down liquor in the hope of forgetting himself and the nightmares that plagued him.

"I can drink however much I want to."

"You just mistook me for somebody out to get you. I think that should be your wake up call. I'm probably the only person on this train who doesn't want you dead." Effie stared at the wall beside her, swallowing back fear at the sight of what was left of the bottle that could have impaled her. Haymitch was a danger to himself and the people around him, his sour attitude did nothing to help his poor reputation. She just wanted to help.

"You're part of the Capitol, sweetheart. You'll always want me dead." The words cut her like a knife and she gasped, blinking the tears from her eyes. That was a pain she couldn't hide.

"Haymitch, I'm not like that. I've spent years trying to help you."

"But you know that it would be easier if I would just die already! Then you wouldn't have to deal with this every, single year! Your precious reputation wouldn't be ruined," Haymitch jumped up, shouting the words as anger took control once more. "Let me drink in peace, woman."

"Haymitch, please let me help-" She reached out, placing a hand on his upper arm in a friendly gesture. It took a second for him to realize she was touching him, and he instantly batted her hand away.

"I don't need your help."

"No. I think you do. You need to stop this. Somewhere in that stupid head, you know that I would never hurt you." Truer words had never been spoken, but Effie felt like this was useless. No amount of talking would get him to understand how much she cared. "Please, Haymitch. I'm not your mother but I care about you. I'm not going to continue chasing you around. If you don't want help, then I guess I can't force it on you."

He watched her closely, judging her facial features through all of her disgusting Capitol makeup. There was a significant pain there but he couldn't figure out exactly what it was from. In a flash, her face was cold and motionless, and Haymitch assumed he had imagined it.

"Effie, I'm never going to quit drinking."

"I know that." She murmured, staring at the ground. He wished she would look at him again. "But sometimes I think...It would be nice to see you sober."

"I've been sober before-"

"No, Haymitch. You haven't. In all the time I've known you; you have never once been completely sober. I guess that's what hurts me the most." She left before he could press the matter and ask why anything he did would hurt her personally.

But a part of him knew that she meant well, that maybe she even felt some form of admiration towards him and he suddenly wanted to prove to her that he was worth all of the trying, and the tears.

Even if he didn't believe it.


End file.
